


Mother Love

by Thunderbird83



Category: Queen (Band)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Being Lost, Character Death, F/M, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Hallucinations, Heavy Angst, Major Illness, Multi, Recreational Drug Use, References to Depression, Shock, ben turns up, liz becomes deathly sick, liz gets mad and leaves, liz runs away, liz wakes up in a cemetery, roger and brian start out as jerks, scarlet fever, the band nurses her
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-24
Updated: 2020-05-15
Packaged: 2021-02-25 20:40:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 18,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21551617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thunderbird83/pseuds/Thunderbird83
Summary: Liz, upset and depressed since her ectopic pregnancy, flips out after Roger and Brian take their own problems out on her. She is lost for two days then the cops call, saying she was the victim of an overdose. With Liz things are never what they seem and John finds her, believing she was dead, and brings her home with Brian's help.Miami hires a doctor to check on Liz who informs the band that Liz tested positive for cocaine use and she has the worst bout of scarlet fever he's ever seen. The band rally around her, getting more help unexpectedly when Ben turns up to lend a hand. Things take a turn for the worse when she suffers a seizure due to the high fever, then John reaches his breaking point.
Relationships: John Deacon/Original Female Character(s)
Kudos: 5





	1. Chapter 1

A/N: I debated whether putting this in Whump Central or not but because it’s much more dark than what I usually write this deserves a place by itself. Trigger warning: As you may have guessed if you follow WC this is about Liz’s grief at losing her unborn child. Does contain experimental drug use, lots of angst, Roger and Brian being dickheads, etc. 

Liz leaned her head against the windowpane as she watched the snowflakes fly by the window, catch a little updraft and whirl around, making her think she was in a snow globe. Tired gray eyes studied her own reflection, knowing that Christmas was going to arrive in a little more than a month and that she hadn’t done any shopping at all. She reached for the butterfly clip that was sitting on the end table near her lounger, wound up her hair, then put the black clip snugly into the knot she had created. 

The medic glanced over at the clock on the wall. It was about 3; John and Freddie had said they would be home around 8. The two of them had gone out to meet some friends of theirs, leaving Liz with Brian and Roger. Normally she wouldn’t mind but Brian had just returned from a visit with his parents and it hadn’t gone well. Brian had been in a foul mood ever since, grumbling about everything, spending most of his time locked in his room. 

Roger was in a similar mood. He had fallen hard for a girl named Andrea, they had been together for several months and when it looked like they were getting even closer together, Andrea dropped the bomb on him. Liz wasn’t clear on the details but Roger hadn’t been very forthcoming either. It was deeply personal, something he didn’t want to go into even though Liz had gently told Roger he should not repress what he felt. 

She should talk. Liz had been having disturbing dreams lately and though she knew what they meant she did not want to face what she was feeling. The medic had been having dreams where she was holding or interacting with a little baby or a toddler only to have them disappear from her arms, leaving her feeling bereft and even more depressed. 

Liz picked up her diary and scribbled down an entry, detailing the dreams and how she had been feeling lately. She didn’t bother to lock it with the fancy key, knowing that the guys wouldn’t snoop around. Even if she did lock it she knew one of the guys could unlock it with the means of a simple paper clip. Freddie had done it once to annoy her; showing her that locks could be defeated. 

The nightmares had been occurring almost nightly now and she knew John noticed that something was up but he did not ask her what it was; trusting her to tell him when she was ready. The bassist had awakened more than once to see Liz actively dreaming; the eyes were moving frantically underneath her lids. It seemed to be extremely vivid to him but he gave her the benefit of the doubt of possibly not remembering what she dreamt of. It happened to him at times as well. 

One night he had just been getting ready to go to sleep when he sat down on the edge of the bed. The bassist had just been thinking of his own dreams which often contained some sort of small child or baby imagery. The closer he walked to the small infant the further away it got from him which was confusing and frustrating. John was just pulling up the covers when Liz gasped, opening up her eyes wide like she was frightened of something. 

John had been alarmed, Liz’s eyes held an expression that he’d never seen before so he grabbed her hands. “Liz! Liz, answer me!” The nightmare took a few minutes to dissipate from her mind, during which she seemed to have been struck blind, dumb and deaf. Her breath came in quick gasps but from the sound of her breathing she was not in any danger of experiencing an asthma attack. 

“Come on back to me, sweetie,” he coaxed her, rubbing her hands. “that must have been some dream.” 

Liz focused on him, her eyes intent on John but he didn’t like the hint of depression she had developed over the past week or two. It reminded him of Brian when he had his occasional bouts; growing morose, spending too much time alone and reclusive. She was rapidly getting trapped in her own mind at that point but John was at a loss on how to deal with it. He’d approached her to talk about it but she didn’t want to talk. He’d even resorted to snooping through her diary, yet the information there was a little too vague. 

“John has no idea how I feel,” she muttered to herself, striding over to the lounger and pulling out a legal pad. “maybe writing to Ben will help me focus and figure out how to deal with this depression that’s got me.” 

Stretching out on her lounger, Liz pulled out one of her favorite ballpoint pens and clicked it. 

“Dear Ben, how are you? I hope this letter finds you well and in good spirits,” she began. “I on the other hand am not in good spirits at all lately. I keep having recurring nightmares or night terrors or whatever it’s called. They have the same theme; I am holding or playing with a baby and it keeps disappearing on me. Call it symbolism if you like, my personal anguish at not being able to give birth properly or carry, whatever. I can’t even start to fathom how to really feel towards this whole thing. I suppose you could call it emotional disconnect. 

“I’m not sure what has triggered all these dreams lately. Is it the holidays coming up? Am I subconsciously wanting kids despite knowing the odds are against me? Granted the incident of me suffering a good old EP again is very low. I’m not even sure that I want to have a child. John and I are more of the mindset if it happens it happens, that sort of thing. 

“It’s just that once this prospect or idea of having kids took root in my mind I rapidly became obsessed with it. I know the ugly realities of the whole process of course, having done some traumatic deliveries in my tenure as a first responder, but maybe there’s something deeper going on in my mind. I already act a lot like a mom to the band, looking out for them and whatnot. Maybe a baby is more spiritually fulfilling?

“I haven’t told anyone because I don’t know what to think. I need time to get myself together and keep my head in the game. I will write again as soon as I figure all of this out. 

“All my best, Liz.” 

The medic sealed the letter and posted it right away. On her way back to her room, Brian grumbled around in the kitchen, banging things together as he got tea ready. Roger was in a similar mood; both of them were insulting each other, making Roger’s voice go higher each time. Liz sat in the living room, staring out the window again. 

If Brian hadn’t been in such a bad mood he would have noticed the symptoms of depression had firmly taken hold of his friend. Liz’s eyes were expressive of sadness, helplessness, and the overall gloom of her situation. Roger just gave Liz a passing glance, seeing that she wasn’t herself but he was too mired down in his own bad mood to inquire after his friend. The medic believed at that point she could have stepped off the face of the earth and they still would not have noticed her. 

“Get the fuck out of my way, Roger,” Brian growled, banging down a cup. “move it!” 

“Make me move, poodle!” the drummer snapped back nastily. 

“Fuck off!” they shoved each other out of the way, causing Roger to lose his balance and fall down. 

“Hey!” Liz shouted. “Keep it down over there!” anger filled her as she stood up, glaring at her two friends. 

“Oh fuck off, Liz!” Brian told her. “Quit being so high and mighty on us!” 

“Yes, do stop, Miss Perfect,” Roger taunted as he got up, rubbing his side where he clipped it on the counter. “just piss the fuck off already! Leave us who have real problems alone!” 

Liz looked like they had both slapped her. Her hand went up to her face like she felt the sting of their verbal assault. Forcing back the tears that sprang up in her eyes she let her anger rise up. Both Brian and Roger seemed to feel it before she got near them, apprehension was on their faces.“You two,” she walked up close to them, eyes narrowing as the other two actually shrank back from her a little bit. “trust me your problems are much MUCH less than my own!” Liz circled them once. “You two have never had a life removed from your bodies that you never even knew was there! Brian, your problems with your dad are fixable! Roger, you’ll get another girlfriend!” 

“I-” Roger started but she cut him off. He seemed to see a change in Liz; she was no longer the fun loving professional and good friend but a person weary of the world in general. Deep shadows were under her eyes which were also bloodshot. Brian also seemed to realize this, giving Roger a faintly concerned look. It was like she was a whole different person they were dealing with. 

“You two need to get over it! I have to deal with guilt and grief every day for the rest of my life!” her eyes grew very bright. Stunned, the two musicians stood up to see Liz walk to the door. “The two of you… my god… so childish!” she opened up the door, grabbing her black leather jacket from the peg on the wall. 

“Where are you going?” 

“None of your goddamn business!” Liz choked out. “I’m not sure I’ll return either!” she ran for the van after swiping the key off the counter top. Roger and Brian ran for the door, shouting her name, yet it was too late as the van was backed down the driveway and speeding for London.

“I have the sinking feeling that we missed something, Brian.” shell shocked, Roger’s eyes were riveted to the spot where he last saw the van, wondering what was going to happen next.

“You idiot,” Brian muttered without any vitriol in his words. “she’s having a hard time.” 

“Well that much I get!” 

“Did you listen to her at all? ‘A life removed from your body that you never even knew was there’ means she’s still thinking about her ectopic pregnancy.” 

“When was that?” 

“Almost two months ago. Liz can’t get over something like that.” 

“She’s still postpartum,” Roger buried his face in his hands on the kitchen counter. “I don’t know what she’s going to to, Bri. Liz is likely to be hormonal and acting out on impulse.” 

“If she doesn’t come back before midnight I’m calling the police,” Brian stared out the kitchen door, hazel eyes dark with worry. “I don’t trust her while she’s like this, Rog. She could hurt herself.” 

“Think she’s depressed?” 

The guitarist joined Roger at the kitchen counter, hand on his shoulder. “I could guarantee it, Rog. She’s got a torrent of emotions going on at the moment and she might decide that-”

“What? Brian, what is it?” 

“She said she might not be back… I’m thinking that she might be suicidal.” 

Roger paled up, his blue eyes darting to meet his friend’s gaze. “She’s that bad?” 

“She might be. We can’t rule anything out in this stage of the game.” Brian glanced over at the clock on the wall. Twenty minutes past three. Liz had 9 hours to blow off her steam or do whatever she wanted until Brian would call the police to bring her home. “I’ll call the police by midnight if she isn’t back.” 

“That still gives her nine hours to do something to herself.” 

“We have to trust in her that she won’t do anything,” Brian was determined. “when the hell do John and Freddie get back here?” 

“At 8.” 

“Let’s just sit on our hands and hope then.” Roger pulled out a pad of paper and a pen, thinking of a good idea for a song. Brian sat down on the sofa with a space magazine in one hand, mind full of thoughts about Liz, wondering what his friend was going to do to herself while she was out there. John in particular wasn’t going to be pleased, thinking that she should not have been able to get out of the house but what could they do? Once Liz had her mind set on something she would do anything to get her way; something that they all knew very well. 

**

Liz meandered around Tottenham Court Road, perusing the stores, detouring down Bonds Street to look at some new clothes, not buying anything but looking. It was around quarter to 11 when she passed by a maternity store that was closing for the night. She paused, seeing the silly sappy looking models, all made up and still looking a bit washed out from the bright lights. 

“Silly things,” she mumbled, glancing wistfully at the articles of clothing on dummies. “that could have been me..” John would have been happy with becoming a dad and her a mom. They could have been very happy with a little baby in the house. The band members would have been very happy for them, they would have doted on the new arrival. Liz’s hand went from her pocket to her belly almost unknowingly. 

“I was pregnant once..” she remembered the time at her late uncle’s house when the demon had his way with her. “Oh god!” memories crashed back into her mind with the force of a semi colliding with a brick wall. Liz recoiled, panting for a moment, then walked away forcefully. 

Leaning against a brick wall breathing heavily, Liz shut her eyes, remembering her ordeal with the demon. It had fucked her under the guise of a very erotic dream, leaving her with a sore feeling the next day, the way Brian had parked himself down next to her later on that day and opened up her shirt to display the little swelling she had developed. Despite the sinister connotations of her condition she rather liked the fact she was carrying a life and did enjoy at least some of it. The earlier stages were very easy for her; the guys seemed to stick a little closer to her and she didn’t even mind all the stares she attracted. 

The later stage was very uncomfortable and even though the labor was almost pain free she was still in discomfort and sore several weeks later. Liz never saw what she had given birth to and nor had anyone seen it. 

“I must still be hormonal.. what the fuck is going on with me lately?” the medic mumbled, putting one hand up to her head. The scene around her seemed to go in and out of focus then Liz realized she was hungry. The medic caught sight of a mom and infant in a stroller and made a face, thinking that the mother was being very irresponsible to take a youngster out in thirty degree weather. As she watched, the mom seemed to change form into something insidious that came towards her, a demon like entity that wanted to wrap a tendril around her and drag her into the poisonous embrace of insanity. Liz choked then turned around, legging it away from the hideous sight. 

At a small cafe near a shoe store, Liz ordered a simple bagel and coffee, preparing to keep herself up all night. She’d stuffed her wallet in her jacket and thankfully John had given her some petty cash. It wasn’t much, just a few twenties, but it would be enough to get her by until she thought of her next move. 

“John and Freddie will be back by now,” she mumbled, stuffing a little tip underneath her plate. “I wonder how they’re taking my disappearance.” 

In fact, Freddie and John were just rolling into the driveway. The two of them walked into the dark house, turning on the lights and taking off their jackets. 

“That was pretty unusual music I heard, Freddie.” 

“They have unusual tastes,” the singer agreed. “it is good to listen to music from different countries, don’t you think? Broadens the mind.” 

“I suppose, but I-” they were interrupted by a sleepy voice. 

“Liz? That you?” Brian stumbled out from his room while John turned on the living room light to see that Roger was lying on the couch sleeping. 

“No-I didn’t see her-” Freddie turned to John questioningly. 

“You got me. Is she in the room?” 

“No. Guys, I should tell you something,” Brian began a little hesitantly. “Roger and I were out here in bad moods, snapping at each other and then Liz comes out, unloads some anger at us, telling us that we were the lucky ones essentially. I can fix problems with my father and Roger will find a new girl, etc. What she told us that was that we were the lucky ones who never had a life removed from us-” 

“What?” John’s eyes widened as Freddie stared, shocked. Liz had never been known to have emotional outbursts before. The singer knew that something was seriously wrong now, putting a hand on John’s shoulder. 

“I know. She grabbed her jacket, the keys to the van and left the house, saying she was not sure if she was coming back.” 

“Our girl is out there possibly suicidal and we don’t know where she is,” Freddie paled. “the devil has gotten into her?!”

“She’s postpartum, Freddie. Her hormones are all out of whack,” Roger has roused hearing Brian’s voice, sitting up on the couch and rubbing his eyes. “I know that’s what’s going on. She’s acting out emotionally and she’ll sort through this and come right back.” 

“I gave her until midnight to come back or I’m calling the police,” the guitarist informed them. “what time is it now?” 

“Ten past 12.” John checked his watch, surprisingly silent. “My god I can’t believe this.” he sank down on Roger’s favorite recliner, hanging his head. “My girl is in such pain I can’t imagine and I’m here stuck, looking for her.” 

“I know, Deacy, I know,” Freddie consoled his friend while Brian dialed the police number. “she looked calm enough but she had a lot of issues under the surface.”

“She’s been having strange dreams lately,” the bassist remembered. “it was very odd to me as they happen every night. She won’t talk about them either.” 

“You didn’t draw it out of her?” 

“No, Rog. I didn’t think that she wanted to talk about it. I figured she’d talk to me when she was ready.” John defended. “Try to draw her out when she doesn’t want to talk and I’d get nowhere.” 

“I agree,” Freddie diffused the tension as Brian spoke to the police. “we need to find her now.” 

“.. yes, she’s about five foot six, dark curly hair, gray eyes. Been missing about 9 hours now. Ms. Hammond’s in a fragile state of mind, possibly suicidal. What? Oh, she is 2 months postpartum after an ectopic pregnancy and has a history of depression.” The three bandmembers stood near Brian while he was on the phone, trying to overhear what the dispatch center was saying. “Yes, her emotional state is very precarious right now. We don’t think she’d kill herself but you should be aware just in case. OK, thanks.” Brian hung up. Turning to his friends he looked even more weary and nervous, apprehension lining his face as he gave his meager report. 

“All they can do is call us if there’s someone matching her description and that’s it.” 

“My god,” John leaned against the hall archway, his voice sounding very far away. “my girlfriend’s missing out there and it’s so cold tonight..” he sniffled a little bit. Freddie flew to his friend’s side, engulfing him in a hug. 

“Someone’s got to stay at home near the phone until further notice,” the singer told everyone. “we’re not leaving the country until she’s back home and in our arms again! She will be fine!” 

“Of course she will, Freddie,” John affirmed followed by the rest of them. He fobbed them off with a polite good night, got ready for bed and got in bed. The bassist put his hand on the right side of the big bed where Liz usually slept. “come back to me, sweetie.” his mind ran with several different scenarios, none pleasant, as to where his girlfriend could be. 

**

That night was an unpleasant one for Liz. At one in the morning she was walking near the outskirts of the city, having ditched Roger’s van, when she happened upon a bunch of people in an alleyway. The medic felt completely out of control and at the mercy of whatever hallucination or thought her brain had cooked up; she felt like her brain was trying to influence her to die. Her own mind was her enemy at that point in time. Stumbling over a raised sidewalk she fell to her knees in the dim street light, opening up a fresh cut on one side of her face. 

Liz’s throat burned but not with rage at the band for being such assholes to her. Her hand flew to her throat but her pain was forgotten as soon as she heard a witchy cackling noise close to her feet. A vagrant clad in grubby clothes and missing all of her teeth, smiled up at Liz in the half light of a nearby street lamp. The woman’s face bore clear marks of meth use but Liz noticed they were all using razor blades for something. 

“Care to do a line, missy?” a throaty voice sounded. “Cure for what ails you!” 

“Oh hell! I might as well forget tomorrow.” Liz had seen people snort lines and shoot up before; she’d given them the antidotes to the drugs. The medic had been firmly against recreational drug use but now she felt like she didn’t know who she really was anymore. 

It felt like she operating on auto pilot or something. She mechanically snorted a line, coughed a few times to get the maximum effect, then giggled and teetered away, wobbling erratically. 

“We’ve got more!” they shouted but Liz did not stop. 

At around 3 AM, Freddie woke up from a restless sleep. He tossed and turned for an hour but he wasn’t able to get back to sleep so easily. The others seemed to be sleeping all right when he checked on them so heaving a sigh, he went out and fixed himself some tea to try to soothe his nerves. The singer watched the snow dance down from the sky, hoping that Liz would be under cover at least. He knew that they would find her alive but her mental state would be completely shattered. 

Even though society had come a long way towards treating the mental cases, Freddie’s vivid imagination had cooked up an image of Liz lying on a bed in restrained while doctors pushed drugs intravenously into her. That was not how they did things now, he told himself sternly. Liz would be treated very humanely, perhaps blood would be drawn to check on her overall health, then the appropriate doctors would be contacted. There wasn’t much he personally could do yet Freddie wanted to go out and look for her. Where would he start?

He couldn’t. The last thing he wanted was to disappear on his friends as well. Just his luck he’d get lost and suffer hypothermia. Freddie finished his tea and went back to bed, covering himself up with the covers. He left one hand on the pillow, wishing Liz would come in and take it, then reassure him that it was all a bad dream. A tear struggled down his cheek as he closed his eyes. 

Liz collapsed somewhere but the darkness was so thick the medic could not tell where she was. The effects of the cocaine was still making her as high as a kite but she finally felt relaxed enough to sleep. Regardless to the cold Liz giggled to herself, imagining strange and funny things. Flying high for several hours, Liz got up and giggled herself around Hyde park, singing a little bit of one of John’s songs, “Spread your legs!” dawn started to break, stretching the grayish pink tendrils across the black sky while she turned and walked down the main road. Her throat burned again but due to the cocaine usage Liz no longer had the power to care. Hopping on a bus she managed to pay fare for someplace completely random, sitting back in the seat and closing her eyes. 

Roger woke up first for a change, yawning, stretching out in his bed, letting his mind wander. He reflected on the day and what he wanted to do, then remembered they were pretty much housebound. Yesterday flooded back into his mind and he winced, squeezing his eyes shut. Liz had looked so depressed, not that he’d really even noticed it. He’d been too caught up in the failure of his relationship with Andrea. He’d really cared for her and yet she ditched him like he was some kind of toy. 

“Fucking hell!” how could he have not seen that Andrea was using him the whole time? She had been introduced to the band on their first date, showboated Roger around, bragged for the entire time they were together, then jut threw him out to the curb like yesterday’s trash. He should have known that she wasn’t for real when she kept badgering him about buying her fancy things like a fur coat or a new car. Roger had explained that John was the financial advisor and kept a lock and key on all the money which she didn’t like. 

Then his mind turned back to Liz. How could he have not seen that she was getting depressed? All that time alone, staring out the window, not paying attention to conversations. She was just as blue as Brian was after he was diagnosed with depression. Liz was usually happy and joking around with Freddie who would pretend to hump her, talk dirty to her without fear of repercussions. There wasn’t much of that anymore as everyone noticed. Roger had just attributed her mood to postpartum hormones and left it at that. She didn’t invite conversation either, giving one word answers and leaving the room. 

As soon as his mind was on Liz he banished any thoughts of getting back to sleep. Well, he could sack out later on the couch as long as the phone was near. Roger got up, took a shower, then made breakfast. Brian was already up, a rarity for him, looking like he hadn’t slept. 

“Just think, today they can find Liz and bring her back to us.” Roger encouraged their friend. Freddie and John were getting up, walking bleary eyed to the kitchen when Brian looked up from his plate, picking at it, his hazel eyes full of worry.

“I’m more worried about the fact she could have fallen into a den of drug addled weirdos and overdosed.” Roger blanched, not having entertained that possibility, as remote as it was. 

John rapidly lost the color in his cheeks while Freddie lightly smacked Brian upside the head. “For god’s sake, poodle! Can’t you be more optimistic like Roger here?!” 

Roger bit back a smile involuntarily. John sniggered to himself as Freddie was deliberately being more flippant and funnier than usual given the seriousness of the situation. Nobody said anything else as they got their breakfasts and sat down together at the table, Liz’s empty chair making them all uneasy. 

“So what’s going on with your father, Brian? I know you wouldn’t be cranky without good reason.” 

“Get right to the point, eh, Freddie?” 

“Might as well. I know you’ve been in a foul mood so spill it!” 

“Fine! My dad and I argued on the value of a science based education versus musical or musician in a band which isn’t a profession.” 

“More of this drabble again, isn’t it?” Freddie sighed. “Brian, doesn’t it take ten thousand hours to become an expert in something?” 

“It does.” 

“Wouldn’t you say all the hours you’ve played your guitar counts to ten thousand hours and therefore making you an expert?”

“I guess it does. Not that my dad-”

“Forget your dear old dad!” Freddie snapped, annoyed. “He only gets under your skin because you let him! Just be you and he’ll come around sooner or later!” 

“That sounds like something you’d say. Liz would have been a little more indirect,” Brian shook his head with a little smile. Involuntarily he glanced at her chair. “I feel so bad for being so nasty to her before she left.” 

“Well there’s no time for remorse now. We can grovel when she returns to us in one piece.” 

“Amen to that. When she returns.” Roger agreed. 

“She will return.” John quietly declared. “I know her.” 

“Right. All we can do now is wait.” 

The day dragged on with Roger flopping himself on the couch next to John and turning on the TV, eager for some show to distract him from the way he felt. At about 10 AM there was a news special with a massive four car pileup on the highway. 

“We repeat, there is a massive four car pileup on the A1,” a news broadcaster trumpeted over the din. “the driver of a van lost control suddenly, went across the median and t-boned a saloon car with a five member family in it. The saloon clipped another van and truck, dragging them all across the median without hurting another car, as miraculous as that may sound.” 

“A van?” just then the phone rang. 

“Hello?” John got there first. The news camera focused on the van which Roger could see was the wrong color to be his. “I see.” 

“All right. Thanks for letting us know at least.” he hung up while everyone in the house zeroed in on John. “She wasn’t in that big car accident.” 

“John, I know you. Something else is wrong.” Freddie gripped his arm. 

The bassist tried to blink back tears but it was no use for him. He put his hands up to his face, then let his grief pour out of him. In the background dimly he could hear his friends fussing over him, wondering what had happened and why was he so emotional. Freddie’s hands were on his shoulders, giving him support until he made a tremendous effort to control himself. 

“What happened?” Roger’s voice was frantic. “Where’s Liz, John?”

“She’s..” he couldn’t bring himself to form the words so he had to take a deep breath. “she’s dead, guys.”

“What?!” everyone screamed. 

“They found a woman fitting her description in a back alley somewhere and it was a drug overdose combined with hypothermia.” John felt like he’d been punched in the stomach as did his friends. Everyone’s eyes were brightly shining as tears welled up and spilled over. John lost himself to several minutes of uninterrupted weeping uncontrollably. 

“We lost our mother figure..” Brian snatched a box of tissues and passed it around. “This is so ironic, guys. She saved our lives and we could not be there to save hers.” 

“Isn’t it.” Freddie agreed. “John do you still have the deeds to the plots next to your son’s?” 

“I think so. Hang on, they never told us what sex it was.” with a sudden jolt he realized the dreams he’d suffered came true. The bassist began to shake from his revelation, making everyone start worrying about him. Roger threw the afghan over his friend’s shoulders, drawing it close but John pushed it aside angrily, feeling helpless and irritated at Liz for putting him in such a spot. 

“I came across the death certificate when I was looking for something else. I’m sorry, John.” 

“Now I’m the only one left,” he murmured. “my son, my love and my life.. all gone!” 

Roger and Brian exchanged a look and got up, giving him a little privacy. The two of them went to the music room, Roger carelessly smacking a bongo, sitting down with a huff. “She was our friend, Brian! I can’t believe she was taken away by this!” 

“I know,” Brian pillowed his head as he sat at the desk, feeling weak and old all of a sudden. “All of those times we were together.” 

“Now I expect John will contact the funeral home and make the arrangements now. Poor thing. I hope she’s with her son.” Roger remembered that black day well. 

Freddie sat with John, trying to soothe him, using his best mother hen attitude the best he could but John was beyond his minstrations. “Freddie, I knew it! It all came true!” 

“What came true, John?” 

“The dreams!” John looked at him wild eyed. “Remember that I told you I kept having these weird dreams after Liz had surgery? A child dies and then Liz dies? The bloody dreams came true!” 

“John, you’re delirious,” Freddie dismissed him. “I need you to rest, all right? This is hard on all of us but I want you to take this and go to sleep.” the singer had given him a sleeping pill that Liz often gave to the band if they had nocturnal trouble. 

“Fine. What time is it?” 

“Almost five. We’ve been blubbering for several hours now. We’ll give the funeral director a call tomorrow to pick up the-” Freddie could not finish that sentence if he tried. John had just taken the medicine, looked up at Freddie, then saw the singer’s eyes were bright with tears. The two of them cried together until John’s eyelids got too heavy to stay open. Freddie had tired himself out as well so he joined John on the couch for a restful slumber. 

Brian and Roger didn’t feel like having supper that night so they went out to the living room to see their friends sleeping on the couch. The two musicians each took a sleeping pill and unwilling to be separated from their friends, crashed out on the recliner and the other sofa. 

**

Liz woke up and had no idea where she was. The medic looked up, a throbbing headache beating at her temples like Roger when he went to town on a drum, then saw a stone ceiling. Bright sunshine beamed in through the place, telling her that she’d spent another night in an unfamiliar place. The medic’s head spun from the drugs; distantly she somehow remembered that she’d taken more cocaine at some point. 

“Where am I?” she was lying on a white marble bench surrounded by a circular structure. The white granite structure was circular and had a grid design. “A columbarium!” it was a pretty design with a bronze statue of an angel, looking up into heaven with a lyre in one hand. Liz got up in a daze, wondering what time it was, then wandered out into the middle of the cemetery. 

“Ow!” she put a hand to her throat as it flared up in pain. “All right, I suppose I’ve punished them enough for being snotty to me.” a black tombstone captivated her and found herself moving closer to it. Liz carefully put her hand on the stone, feeling a flush of heat envelope her face. 

“Oh my god..” it was her son’s marker. The dandelion they had carved into the stone stood out in stark contrast to the white landscape around her. “my poor thing… I feel so bad and yet I didn’t know you even existed. I didn’t know!” Liz wailed, thick tears pouring from her eyes. Sitting down next to her son’s marker she hung her head and gave in to the misery that was surrounding her. Remembering how she’d found out she was pregnant, mentally wanting her son to live but he couldn’t made Liz feel like a world class failure. “I don’t want to leave you again.” 

The pain in her throat flared again then she felt uncomfortably hot. Liz didn’t care anymore, sitting with her legs crossed and her head hung down low as if she was meditating. The hours passed without her noting any of them, feeling like she was closer to her son already. Six hours transpired, Liz gradually lost consciousness, the last thing she could remember was an engine. 

“Sure this is the right place?” Brian asked John as he pulled the Jaguar into the parking lot and put it in park. Freddie had volunteered to stay at home and take care of Roger who was a right mess. John had to compose himself for the time being, knowing he had a duty to perform. 

“Yeah I’m sure. Of course this is a seasonal cemetery but I know they do cremations year round and will bury it. A lot less effort you know.” they left the warm Jaguar and walked over to John’s son’s grave. “What the hell is that?” it looked like a lump of clothes left behind by a mourner. 

“I have no idea. Let me take a closer look.” feeling brave for some reason, John marched over to the mound of clothes with determination. “Who do you think you are, sitting here beside my son’s grave?” a faint click was heard, a black butterfly clip fell to the snowy ground and familiar black curls fell down. “Oh my god!” he fell to his knees beside the figure, sweeping aside the curls to see a closed eyelid and a face that was gradually losing color. 

“What is it?” Brian called.

“Brian, come here, NOW!” John bellowed the loudest he was capable of. “Liz?! Oh my god!” he put his hand on her forehead, noting the heat. “Sweetie, can you hear me?” 

Liz’s head lolled about a little bit until John stopped it. “No..” she mumbled. “John…” 

“I’m here, love..” 

“I want my son… J-John.. I..” Brian stopped short amid the tableau, paling up considerably like he’d just seen a ghost. 

“MY GOD!” the guitarist shouted. “LIZ?!” she flinched from his voice. 

“She’s alive but just barely..” John briskly said. “she’s hypothermic yet her skin’s as hot as fire. She’s probably sick too. Come on, let’s get her to the car and take her home.” he picked her up carefully, noting her shiver and put her arm around his neck. Liz buried her face in John’s chest which made him jump a little bit. “She’s so hot! Let’s get her home quickly!” 

“I’m so glad she’s not dead!” at a loss for words, Brian opened up the rear door so John could put his precious cargo in the back. “You’re right, John. Her face is like fire.” 

“Come on, let’s get her home so we can help her heal.” John clambered into the passenger seat while Brian turned on the car and drove like mad towards home.  
END PART 1


	2. Nursing the Sick

PART 2: Healing the Sick

Brian’s car screeched into the driveway with such force both Roger and Freddie jumped a mile. The two of them had been trying to come to terms with Liz’s death and were talking about the past times they had. Roger, in spite of taking a sleeping pill that night so he wouldn’t dream, had ended up dreaming anyway. Freddie’s overactive imagination had done the same thing which left them mildly annoyed. 

“Something’s really wrong or Brian wouldn’t be driving like me.” the drummer opened up the door and charged out into the snowy driveway, raising a hand to his eyes to shield him from the snow glare. John had opened up a back door and was fiddling with something so Roger went over to give him a hand. “What are you doing?” 

“Help me!” John pleaded, bringing a face into view. “I found her!” 

“Freddie!” Brian called. “We found her!” Roger could see Liz’s face though it was red, so he helped spin her around gently until John could get a good grip on her, picking her up and going up the front walkway with ease. Freddie, white faced, opened up the door for them. Brian shut the car doors, bounced through the door after them and hung up his keys on the peg in the wall. 

“How on God’s green earth did you find her?” the singer was astounded as John brought her into the bedroom, took off her outer clothes, then threw her shoes in the corner. Everyone stood near the doorway while John dressed her in a nightshirt and drew the covers up. 

“We went to the cemetery to make sure we had the right plot numbers as that’s where John was going to bury her, then we saw what looked like just a pile of clothes then John realized that was Liz’s favorite jacket. Her hair came loose and he saw that famous mane of hers… they spoke but I couldn’t hear any of what they said. John shouted for me and I was amazed. She’s come back to us, guys.” Brian felt his eyes welling up again. “I’m going to get a huge headache, I know it.” 

“John?” Roger approached him. “Want help?” 

“She has a big fever, Roger. We need to call Miami and get her seen.” John’s voice was strained as he sat on the edge of the bed, reaching out to Liz, finding a sweaty stray curl that was lying on her red cheek. He moved it away, brushing it to behind her ear, feeling his eyes tear up at the pitiful sight. He wasn’t the only one, either. Brian and Freddie both looked close to tears as well. 

“She’s got red spots all over her throat,” Roger frowned as he looked her over. “strep infection to be sure. Freddie, want to call Miami?”

“Sure, mate.” Freddie had been dumbstruck as soon as he saw Liz’s feeble form brought into the house, causing him to become speechless, a rarity for anyone that knew him. 

Liz stirred a little bit as Brian put an ice pack on her forehead, making her moan. Her eyelids flickered open a little bit and whispered something. John nodded. “I know babe, I know. We both want him.” his hands covered hers, pressing them gently. “You have to get well.” 

Brian thought it was a very sweet and touching moment, seeing John and Liz together like that. The bassist listened attentively to what she said, kneeling down at her bedside, acknowledged it, then seeing her drift off again, John pressed his lips to her cheek while she gave a little sigh. He swiped at his eyes then glanced over at his friends. “It’s like kissing a hot potato.” he joked feebly, standing up. 

The others gave him stunned smiles while Freddie talked to Miami and then leaned into the room. “Miami’s got a doctor coming in about 20 minutes! He’s also alerting the authorities that Liz is not dead-those policemen were incorrect in their assumption. Lousy policework-it turns out they didn’t check the dental records! We should sue them!” he hung up the phone with a little rattle. 

“Poor girl,” the singer gazed at her sympathetically, moving towards her. “is she talking at all?”

“Just the same thing over and over,” John sank down into the armchair he’d dragged over to the bedside. “she wants our son.” 

All three of them shuddered. “She must be delirious.” Brian reasoned, glancing at Liz tenderly. He leaned down and pressed her hand but she drew her hand away. “Just like when she was ill in college.” Freddie gave a little start; the memories coming back to him but he banished them away. 

“That I would put money on,” the bassist agreed. “still I found her at our son’s grave.” 

“I wonder what else she did while she was out there..” 

“We won’t know until she tells us, Roger. She must have spent the night out there in the freezing cold..” Brian’s eyes shone as he looked at Liz benevolently; such an expression was very rare from the guitarist. Roger’s gaze was sweet and yet wistful as he mentally urged her to fight the illness that was burning her up, and Freddie looked determined like always. John looked hopeful to say the least. Now that his beloved girlfriend had been returned to him he intended to be a little more watchful of her moods. 

**

The doctor that Miami sent over gave Liz a very thorough workup, even testing her for drugs while he was at it. Despite scoffs from the band (“She’s never done crack, doc!”) they were all shocked to hear that Liz tested positive for cocaine. 

“I suppose she indulged her wild streak while she was out,” Roger said slowly, sitting on the lounger with Freddie. Brian stood with John beside Liz on the opposite side of the bed as the doctor listened to Liz’s heart. “one time thing though, right? I don’t see her becoming an addict.” 

“Hang on, how did those marks get on her throat?” the doctor took a hold of her chin gently and tilted her head from side to side. He took put a penlight and shone it into Liz’s eyes to test her pupillary reaction, then took a closer look at her throat. “I’m going to need to take a throat culture to be sure but I’m pretty sure of what I’m dealing with here.” he took the culture, making her gag, put it in a sample container with her name on it. 

“What is it then, doctor?” the doctor buttoned up Liz’s nightshirt to avoid exposing her chest to the open air. 

“Well, Mr. Deacon, I’m very sure she has scarlet fever. Has she had a strep infection or complained about a sore throat lately?” 

“Yes she has, come to think of it. We thought it went away.” 

“It happens. I’ll give her a prescription for an antibiotic and fever reducer so she should return to normal within a week or two.” he handed John a few scripts to fill at the pharmacy. 

“I know this looks bad but it’s completely normal for this disease. Her fever should start to go down within the next 24 hours. Keep pushing fluids down her throat-it might be hard to do but try the best you can.” Brian saw the doctor out and returned to the sickroom. 

“So are you ready to be a nursemaid to the nursemaid?” Roger brought in a large water bottle that had a pull top to minimize spillage, Freddie sat down in the chair, ready to take the first shift while John went to the pharmacy to fill the scripts. Brian pulled off the ice pack from her forehead, noting it had turned tepid, went into the kitchen to swap them out, putting a fresh one on Liz’s brow. 

The medic stirred a little bit at the touch, trying to bat the ice pack away. “Cold..” she murmured. 

“You’re roaring hot,” Freddie told her. “I could hold you to the frozen windowpane over there and you’d melt the ice right off of it, darling!” 

“Freddie?” the eyelids flickered but stayed shut. 

“Right here, dearie,” he put his hands over hers. “having a bout of the chills now, are you?” 

“So cold...” she began to shiver. 

“That’s how it goes I’m afraid. No, don’t remove the ice pack. You’ve got a big fever.” 

“Ugh.. John?”

“He went to the store, darling. He’ll be right back.” Brian and Roger loomed into her view. Liz looked confused at first then she recognized them. 

“Guys gonna yell at me again?” she sounded pitiful, like a little girl. 

“No, of course not,” Roger assured her, putting his hand on her shoulder. “I’m so sorry I lashed out like that, Liz. I was being childish. The last thing I want to do is to hurt you. You’ve been there for us for so long and I love you dearly.” 

“You grovel properly,” a hint of a smile curled up her lips, making Roger grin.. “good..” 

“Thank god!” the drummer leaned down, wrapping one arm around her the best he could, giving her a good solid hug. “We thought you were-”

“Mate,” Brian put his hand on his arm. “not yet. Wait until she’s well.” 

“Right. God, it’s like trying to hug a burning log!” Roger teased her. “Have some water, Liz, you’re pretty dehydrated.” 

“Water good.” Liz drank greedily to the relief of the others. 

“I’m glad you’re semiconscious at least,” Brian took his turn to grovel. He put a long skinny hand on her arm, pressing her hand to his other one. “I’m sorry, Liz. I didn’t mean to shout at you.” 

“Brian?” 

“In the flesh, hon,” he said hesitantly. “I’m sorry if I drove you off..” 

“It’s OK,” she reassured him. “I forgive you.” 

Brian breathed a shaky sigh of relief, not knowing how nervous he actually was until she said that. He hugged her like Roger did, adding, “don’t ever go away from us again.” 

Liz gave him a sleepy smile, her eyelids drawing closed. “Liz?” she made a sleepy noise and let her head roll to one side. “She’s asleep.” the guitarist trailed a few fingers down the side of her face, glancing over to his friends. 

“Well, restful dreams to her then! You know I didn’t realize she was having bad dreams lately until John said something.” 

“He did?”

“Yes and he was sure Liz was going to talk about it but she never did. I think we might have to insist on a new rule for all of us: no secrets from each other. We are a family after all.” 

“I agree with that.” Roger never appreciated how welcome the presence of Liz sleeping quietly was before. At least now he knew that she was safe. 

“Come on then, why don’t we all go have some supper?” the guitarist suggested, shepherding the others out of the room. Roger looked hesitant, seeing Liz turn her head fitfully in her sleep, but Brian told him that he needed to keep his own strength up. “She’s not in any condition to run for the door, Roger. Just let her sleep.” 

“Right.” the two of them left the room, keeping the door ajar in case Liz woke up and needed him.

When supper was ready John arrived back from the pharmacy sporting a small white paper bag full of supplies for their sick friend. He was willingly talked into taking supper before he administered drugs to Liz, happy to have his friends around him and acting like nothing had happened. 

Well almost. “It’s nothing short of a miracle the way she’s returned to us.” Roger remarked happily. “She might be sick but that’s nothing. We can nurse that right out of her. Strep after all is a bacterial infection.” 

“Yeah,” John agreed. “all that pain and suffering last night for nothing, thank god. I’ll always believe that a higher power saved her and brought her back to us.” 

“Well, the powers that be may have saved her physical body, true, but I worry a bit about her state of mind,” Brian spoke up quietly. “I think she’s going to need more therapy.” 

“I think we’re all going to need therapy after she’s well, Bri,” Freddie gave his friend a warm smile. “I hear what you say though. If her mind is set on death it will be extremely difficult to nurse her back to health. She will be on the enemy’s side, so to speak. We have to talk her back from the edge, remind her of what she has with us.” 

A knock at the door startled them out of their musings. Roger got up to answer it, peering through the peephole intently. “Hello? Oh my god, it’s you! Come in!” 

A familiar figure entered the room. A tall man with glasses, blonde hair and clear blue eyes, looking at all of them as he unwound a red and blue scarf from his neck. “Hi, guys!” 

“My god! Ben!” Freddie exclaimed, giving him a hug. “It’s been so long!” 

“I wish my visit was under more happy circumstances, guys. I know that Liz’s been-”

“No, don’t finish that sentence,” Roger cut him off, standing up from the table. “are you hungry?”

“No, I just had supper at a restaurant. Guys, I heard that Liz had died. I was coming to London anyway to check out the new office I had set up. Her last letter I got really disturbed me and I wanted to offer some personal experience to help lighten her up a little bit-”

“You can forget about it, Ben.” Roger took his hand. “I have something to show you.” 

The real estate agent looked mystified but let Roger lead him to the sickroom. Lying in bed with her head and shoulders propped up by pillows, cheeks flushed red, eyes closed was Liz. She was wearing a white cotton nightshirt with frills around her neck and wrists. The color drained from Ben’s face as he beheld her, walking to the edge of the bed where she was, then he put his hand on one side of her face, cupping it gently. “Liz? Can you hear me?” 

“She should. We haven’t given her the medicine yet.” Roger mumbled. 

Liz stirred briefly under Ben’s hand, giving him a flash of her gray eyes. “It’s Ben, hon. Can you hear me OK?” 

“Ben..” he could see her feverish eyes looking at him but she didn’t seem to recognize him at all. Without another word she lapsed back into sleep while the real estate agent gazed at Roger, confused. 

“That’s how it’s going to be until she’s cured,” the drummer said in a low tone. “we need to get her well again. The doctor was surprised to see her illness took hold so fast. She must have been sick and not known it.” 

“So what happened to her anyway?” 

“It’s a bit of a story. Do you have a hotel or something in town? You can stay here in our spare room if you want.” Roger offered. 

“I’d be glad to, thanks,” he was shown the spare room. “Rog, tell me what went on.” 

“All right. Brian and me had been going through some tough times. Brian’s dad is an ass, thinking that Bri isn’t making the best use of his talents by being a musician, I got dumped by my girlfriend, and Liz had gone into depression mode following her ectopic pregnancy. Brian and I bust each other’s chops being mean, Liz lays into us with her own grief, gets mad and leaves. What snapped us out of it is that she said she wasn’t sure if she would be coming back,” Roger’s face was already pale from the two days of emotional turmoil; Ben thought he looked dazed from all that had happened. “yesterday the cops called and said they found Liz dead from an overdose in the alley somewhere.” 

“Oh fuck.” 

“Exactly what we thought, Ben. Anyway, John digs out his information today regarding plots, making sure that he’d bought 3 together, etcetera. He and Brian go out to the cemetery to make sure the plot numbers are accurate and they find Liz slumped over right next to her son’s tomb.”

Ben’s mouth fell open. “Gosh..”

“You could say so,” Roger agreed with him. “it’s kind of dramatic and she was discovered, brought back here, and we had our manager get a doctor to look at her. We’re fortunate in that respect-usually docs don’t make house calls. We’re all very emotionally drained after today.” he gave a little laugh.

“So what did the doctor say?” 

“He gave her a diagnosis of scarlet fever.” 

Ben’s eyes widened. “I know of a client who had her young child die from that.” 

“It’s a bacterial infection and she can recover from it. We have all the medications necessary to fight it. I know I won’t be the same after this,” Roger gave a shaky laugh. “our poor friend’s been through so much..” 

“Don’t think on it so much, Roger,” Ben touched his arm. “she will be fine. I have to go and inspect the new office space in the afternoon tomorrow. How about I take the evening shift of looking after her?”

“You wouldn’t mind?” 

“Not in the least. I can look over my paperwork and keep an eye on her. You guys all need an early night with some deep and healing sleep.” 

“Right. Thanks, Ben. I feel too tired to stay up tonight.” Roger muffled a yawn. “What time is it anyway?” 

“It’s not that late; about 6.” 

“Really? Damn, I must be tired!” he laughed, escorting Ben out to the dining area. 

Freddie glanced at Ben warily as Roger nodded behind him. “Rog tell you everything?” 

“Yes he did. I’m so sorry for all that you guys suffered in these past days. I’m here to help you out however you need it, all right? I need inspect our new office tomorrow afternoon but I’m free to help between now and then.” 

“How long are you in town for?” 

“About five days. My kids are with their grandma.” 

“You’ll have to tell us about them later on,” Freddie remembered the kids vaguely from their vacation last summer at Liz’s house up north. “in the meantime, John, did you call the funeral director and tell them it was off?”

“I did. The cops have been called as well. I asked Miami to take care of all of that.” John answered, standing up. “I’m beat.” 

“So am I. I know it’s early, but goodnight.” Roger slouched off to his room without another word. He got ready for bed, plopped onto the bed, but instead of reading a book until he felt sleepy, he closed his eyes and let his mind ruminate over the odd day they’d just endured. Liz was dead that morning and yet at the close of the day John had brought her home, alive but sick. It was poetic in a way that the grief stricken lover finds his love barely alive and brings her home to heal, but Roger shivered. Her run down and weak condition shook everyone up but they were determined to nurse her back to health. 

“I can’t think about it anymore.” Roger shut his eyes again, adjusting his breathing pattern by taking deep breaths until he felt more relaxed. It took about an hour and a half for him to fall asleep.

**

The rest of the band stayed up until 9 PM, Brian and Freddie discussing Liz’s mental health and indeed John’s as well. He was the one who had suffered the most beside Liz and he would need some looking after. 

“Where did Roger go?” Freddie asked Ben who was passing him in the hallway. 

“He went to bed already.” 

“So soon? It’s only 8! Don’t tell me that he’s sick too!” Freddie started but Ben shushed him. 

“He’s not, Freddie. I know that Roger’s just tired and emotionally drained. He’ll be ready to do an afternoon shift when I leave tomorrow.” 

“Oh. Are you going to stay here the entire time you’re in London? You’re more than welcome to.” 

“I’d be glad to, Freddie. I’m glad to be among friends.” Ben gave Freddie a warm smile, trying to alleviate a little weariness he saw in the singer’s eyes. “John’s going to give me a primer on her care so I know what I’m doing tomorrow. In the meantime you should hit the sack.” 

“I might just do that.” 

John was giving Liz her medication when Ben walked into the room. She could not stay awake long enough to take it so he had to use Freddie’s talent of fast talking her into it before she could fall asleep again. Ben helped him out, engaging Liz’s mind long enough to get her medicine into her. The bassist looked very haggard so the real estate agent talked him into retiring early, seeing that he was prepared to stay up all night to nurse his love. 

“You’ve got to look after yourself as well, John. She won’t begrudge you rest. I think she would tell you the same, right?” he gently cajoled. John capitulated, going into the spare bedroom and claiming one of the twin beds as his. 

When Freddie and Brian looked in on Liz before turning in, they saw their friend lying motionless in bed, in a deep sleep while Ben, with the light low studied his paperwork for the new real estate office. The two of them smiled, knowing Liz was in good hands. Ben had put a fresh ice pack on her forehead, gotten her to drink some water, then without looking up said, “Good night, you two. She’ll be fine.” 

“When you’re ready, tag one of us in.” Freddie offered. 

“One of you better be ready to go in the morning.” was all Ben said with a little grin. 

“Will do.” the two of them left the doorway. 

Liz moaned faintly, alerting Ben to the fact she was dreaming. He put a thermometer under her tongue to check her fever which measured at 104.7. “Damn girl, that’s high. We need to give the meds a chance to work and if they don’t we will call the doctor.” she seemed a little less distressed when he talked to her. The real estate agent stroked her hand which quieted down her moans. “That’s better, don’t you think?” 

“Ben?” she murmured, eyelashes fluttering but he couldn’t see her gray eyes. 

“I talked to you earlier; you don’t remember?” 

“No.” 

“This is concerning,” he muttered, thinking that things were going to get worse before they got better. Ben hoped that the fever was on the wane but he was wrong. “It’s too early to make any assumptions but we have to pray for the best for you.” 

Liz let out a pained moan which seemed to emanate from her very core. Ben took her hand like he would do with one of his kids and muttered, “I know Liz, I know. We’re all here for you to help get you well again.” he could tell by the way her eyes moved behind their lids that she was entering the feverish dream/hallucination stage which was a definite bad sign.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3: Breaking Point

Ben stirred in his chair and woke up, blinking his eyes blearily and briefly forgetting where he was for a long moment. He glanced over at the lifeless looking figure on the bed, noticing that the flush in Liz’s cheeks looked more red than he’d seen last night. The real estate agent checked her fever carefully, frowning at the readout: 105. 

“Must be time for your next dose then.” Ben reached for the medicine bottle on the nightstand as Brian entered the room, wordlessly asking with his hazel eyes how his friend was feeling. 

“It’s not looking good, Brian,” Ben admitted, shaking out a few tablets into his hand. “you might have to help me wake her up and stay awake long enough for her to take the meds.” 

“All right.” Brian agreed, sitting on the edge of the bed. The two of them gently shook her shoulders and said her name but they got no response. Ben had to physically open her mouth and dump the medication into it, then he shut her jaw and tickled her throat until she swallowed. 

“I had to do this with my kids when they were being contrary,” the real estate agent giggled ruefully. “we had to come up with alternate ways of doing things.” 

“I hear that. You’d be surprised at how often one of us has to be the authority figure when the rest are acting up.” 

“I don’t think so,” Ben chuckled. “I’m starving.” 

“Come on, let’s get breakfast started. John’s in the shower now so we’ll send him to look in on her in a few minutes. What’s her fever?” 

“One hundred and five degrees.” 

Brian’s eyes widened. “That’s dangerous.” 

“It’s dangerous if it goes any higher than that. Come on, keep a positive outlook.” Ben cuffed Brian on the shoulder as both of them left the room. 

Liz roused a little bit as the morning sunshine beamed down on her from the window. She opened up one eye, recoiled a little bit from the glare, then saw a cardinal sitting on the windowsill. “I bet you want food don’t you?” she wanted to get up to feed the birds but her arms felt weighted down like she had limbs made out of lead. The cardinal wavered in and out of focus; her eyes became confused as her head felt extremely dizzy all of a sudden. A huge surge of heat washed over her, causing her to brush aside the bedclothes with an annoyed grunt. 

“Good morning, dearie!” Freddie sang out as he entered the room, walking over to her side. “So how are we feeling today? Better?” he sat on the edge of the bed, brushed his hand over her forehead and checked her temperature with the thermometer. “A hundred and five! No, you’re backsliding, sweetie! I know Ben gave you your medicine but I need to call the doctor to give you something to really blast that fever back!” 

Liz opened up her eyes again to see Freddie sitting on the edge of the bed, gazing down at her with a worried look on his face. What was he so worried about, she wondered idly. The sick medic saw a dark shadow start to seep across the room, enveloping everything in its path. 

Freddie started, seeing her gaze become glazed over and unfocused. “What is it, Liz? What do you see?” 

Underneath the fever brightness he saw her complexion turn ashy gray. “It’s so dark...” 

“You’re hallucinating, hon,” he tried to soothe her. “focus on me now.” 

“I’m so hot...” she whimpered, brushing her hair back from her face, feebly attempting to throw the bedclothes off of her. 

“I know sweetie, I know,” Freddie dashed out to get an ice pack, put it on her forehead and watched her expression change to gratefulness. “the medicine should be taking effect in a minute.” 

“Good.” the pain in her throat flared up again but she was too drowsy to notice it. The darkness in her vision obscured Freddie from her view as she gave a little sigh. 

The singer saw her fall back asleep, noticed her bedclothes were off of her then made a noise of impatience as he brought them back up, tucking her in like his mother used to do for him. “Next time I’m stapling them on you!” 

John entered the room then, looking fresh and relaxed from a good night’s sleep. “How’s my woman doing, Freddie?” 

“I can’t keep her awake.” the singer sighed, standing near the door as the bassist walked over to Liz; brushing a hand over the medic’s brow. 

“Don’t try,” John sat in the armchair, then reached over and drew up the blinds. “she won’t notice much for awhile yet. Ben says her fever is borderline dangerous.” 

Freddie eyed his friend suspiciously. John was projecting the image of cool, calm and collected but he knew his friend much better than that. The bassist was a bundle of nerves; anxiety being the main one at the moment. He hadn’t rescued Liz from hypothermia only to lose her to scarlet fever and yet he was powerless to help her through the illness. John’s laid back demeanor enabled him to think rationally and yet when his lover was seriously sick he became all emotionally driven. 

“I’ll be keeping a close eye on both of you.” the singer declared as he got up and left the room. 

“I expected nothing less, Freddie.” John picked up a nameless book, flipped it open and began to read, not comprehending a word. His free hand snaked down from the armchair, found Liz’s limp and hot hand then latched onto it tightly. 

It seemed to him that Liz squeezed back but faintly.   
**  
-”Oh John, come on, give me some more of that!” Liz squealed, John’s black cowboy hat was on her head and she was ready to climax. 

Underneath her John smiled broadly, his face a little red as he reached up and grabbed her hips. “Get ready for it!” 

“Yeah!” he shot his load into her without a second thought. Liz giggled, making her pussy walls tighten and clench around his dick while his spunk started their marathon. John allowed a few moments for her to recover herself then nudged her off, pulling out his soft cock from her love hole. 

“Tired, babe?”

“Yeah.” 

“You know what that means then.” she lay down beside him and closed her eyes, smirking as he put a hand on her midsection. Liz dozed off, leaving John to contemplate just how strong his semen actually was. 

“Wake up, babe,” the bassist’s voice roused her. “it’s time.” 

“Time for what?” she said groggily. “I just closed my eyes.” 

“We need to get to the hospital.” 

“I’m not sick!” 

“Not that, silly. Open your eyes and you’ll see why we need to get there.” she did so and saw a very large rounded mass that looked like it belonged to her. Liz tried to get up but found it wasn’t so easy. John laughed and took her hands. “Time for our son to make his appearance.” 

“Son?” she blinked and the scene changed. 

Liz and John were standing in the spare room, depositing a newborn into a crib. “I think he’s got your temperament.” 

John reached down and tugged the hat off of the baby’s head. “I think so too. I haven’t seen him with that devil may care look that you get.” 

“It’s early days.” 

The next thing Liz knew there was a shout and two cute little boys were flinging themselves at her, latching onto her legs to hug her. John was right behind them, grinning. “You guys forgot your book packs!” he slung a green and blue pack down at their feet. “Come on now, we’re not your servants.” 

“Sorry Daddy.” they apologized, picking them up and scurrying into the house. Liz watched them go, admiring them wordlessly for a moment. One of them had Liz’s black hair, one had John’s, yet both of them seemed to have John’s even temperament thankfully. 

“Let’s see if they leave us alone for a few moments, eh?” John kissed Liz, wrapping his arm around her. “How are you both doing?” 

“Both?” her belly was grossly swollen again. Liz put her hands on it, not able to appreciate the wonderment of a life growing unseen yet right under their noses. 

“Yeah, our daughter is in there right now.” 

“Oh, right.” the bassist pushed up her shirt just a little bit and kissed the bulge affectionately. 

“This isn’t real.” 

“What? Sure it is.” 

“No, it’s not. John, I lose babies. There’s no way I can have 3. My reproductive system doesn’t work.” 

“But it’s working now!” he put his hands on her belly. “It worked twice before.” 

“That’s why none of this is real. My uterus fails me.” a sharp burning sensation at her throat made her wince. 

“What is it, babe?” his voice echoed down a dark tunnel…

The members of Queen stood at attention, faces grim and all cloaked in black. Liz found herself standing with them, not knowing what they were doing until she saw that they were at a gravesite. A small pedestal had an urn standing on it, made out of shiny black granite and had mother of pearl handles on each side. 

“Whose service is this? Miami?” she took a closer look at the urn. 

“Oh God!” the plaque read ELIZABETH JADE DEACON. “But John, I’m right here!” he took no notice of her. 

“Freddie! Roger! Brian!” everyone ignored her as John took the urn, put it in the little vault, then put it in the ground with tears streaming down his face. Brian dabbed at his eyes, Roger closed his, and Freddie put his hand on John’s arm. 

“You guys all… but I can’t be… John!” Liz uttered a scream from her very soul. 

**

“Oh shit!” Brian exclaimed. “Roger, get in here now!” 

The drummer rushed into the bedroom followed by Ben and Freddie. John was in the armchair looking shocked. 

“Liz! Oh shit! Turn her on her side so she won’t swallow her tongue!” Roger instructed, jumping onto one side of the bed and helping Brian turn Liz’s weak form. 

“What the devil is happening here?” Freddie barked out, standing by the window so he wouldn’t get in the way. 

“She’s gone into a seizure, Freddie!” Roger was holding down her upper body, Brian was keeping her arms still and Ben was restraining her legs. John looked like a deer in headlights, white faced with his eyes twice the size they usually were. 

Freddie’s eyes cut to John but he had more urgent matters at hand. “I’ll call the doctor!” he grabbed the phone and began to dial. 

Fortunately the seizure didn’t last long and Liz was able to be turned on her back. Roger, panting slightly, checked her pulse which was returning to normal. “Thank god that’s over with. She’ll be all right now.” 

“You call this all right?!” John erupted out of his chair like someone had shocked him with ten thousand volts. “Oh God, I can’t deal with this!” he fled the room while Ben, Brian and Roger watched him with worried eyes. 

“John-” Brian started but Roger shushed him. 

“Let’s let Freddie take care of him, OK?” 

Freddie had seen John dash out of the room and knew something was up but he had to report back to the others. Hanging up the phone he leaned into the bedroom where Liz was mercifully quiet. “The doctor says if her temperature doesn’t go down at all by four PM to call him and he will admit her into the hospital.” 

“That’s four hours from now. Do you think she can hold on that long? Maybe we should have him admit her now.” Brian mused, head in his hands. Roger’s eyes were enormous in his head; he was biting his lip in agitation while Liz slept on imperviously. 

“Four hours is reasonable,” Ben argued. “besides we’ve got to keep an eye on John.” 

“Right!” the singer turned to the hallway. “I’m on it!” 

**

The bassist was standing in the driveway, not knowing why he chose to run outside but glad that he did. He gazed at the bird feeder hanging from the nearby cedar tree, watching the cardinals and bluejays feeding off of it. Liz and Brian, both being very fond of animals, had put the feeder up together last fall. 

“Oh Liz...” he sniffled, letting a tear run down his face. 

A door slammed shut behind him but he didn’t turn to look. The image of Liz suffering a seizure was going to haunt him. One moment he and Ben had been chatting about what they had seen for movies lately, Brian had stuck his head in to see how Liz was doing, then she had started to seize up. Before he knew it she was writhing out of control. 

“John?” 

“Go away, Freddie.” he sniffled. 

“Hey, after something like this we need to talk about it,” the singer draped his coat over John’s shoulders. “it’s freezing out here.” 

“I don’t want to talk.” 

“It’s OK. I know you’ll say things that I probably shouldn’t hear.” he tried to reassure John but it was no use so Freddie had to try a different tactic. 

“You’re afraid, aren’t you?” he didn’t say anything to that so Freddie took that as an invitation to continue. “Are you afraid that because you could lose her for real this time, John? That it? You don’t think we’re all afraid of that happening?” 

Freddie droned on until John started fuming, his rage built up like a steam train thundering along the tracks. John lost track of where he was and turned on Freddie. “Of COURSE I’m scared I’ll lose her, Freddie! I’m.. I’m..” The bassist lost steam very quickly, arms dropping to his sides. He hung his head and mumbled. “I can’t lose her, Freddie, not after all we’ve been through together. Her illness isn’t showing any signs of slowing down.”

“We’re all afraid of that, John,” Freddie put his hands on his friend’s shoulders. “but you underestimate how strong she is at heart. Remember when you had a hard time with depression and she helped you out?”

“Yeah. We need to go inside. I’m cold.” 

“Right, John.” Freddie grinned. “Just remember it’s been a really rough couple of days for us so I think we need to relax.” 

The two of them walked into the house, John hanging up their jackets as Freddie went over to the tea kettle, filled it up, then put it on the stove. He lit a match, turned on the gas burner, then adjusted the heat to boil the water, blowing out the match with a faint smell of sulfur drifting to John’s nose. 

“Earl Gray?” Freddie hauled out the mahogany box where he kept his special tea collection. 

“I think we need something soothing, Freddie. Chamomile.” 

“Chamomile it is!” the singer rifled through his collection, didn’t have any, then pounced on a small mason jar at the back of the cupboard. “Brian’s special stash. He likes to drink this when he can’t sleep at night.” 

“Think he’ll mind?” 

“I think he would encourage it,” Brian’s tired voice wafted over to them. “how in the hell could I be so tired at 1 PM?” 

“We’ve seen a lot today and it’s been building up after the roller coaster we’ve been riding on.” John leaned on the counter. 

“I can’t believe it,” Brian dug out the tea service. “she’s always been so strong and this past week she’s been deteriorating fast. I really hope that we don’t have to take her into the hospital.” 

“No chance of that, Bri,” Freddie said breezily, confident as ever. “I know her and she’s going to be just fine. She’s a strong woman and she can face this. What I think we need to do is just sit with her, have our tea, and reminisce a bit. Try to get her mind interested some.” 

“That might work.” the kettle boiled in no time at all, they assembled the service on the tray and brought the whole thing into the sickroom. Ben was sitting with Liz, Roger was perched on the desk; both of them idly chitchatting back and forth. The two of them paused midsentence and smiled at their friends coming in with a laden tray. 

“Well, that’s service,” Ben grinned. “what kind?”

“Something soothing. Brian was good enough to share his chamomile for once.” Freddie distributed the cups grandly. Ben was in the chair, Brian and Freddie were in dining room chairs they dragged in, John was on the edge of the bed nearest to Liz. Roger moved off the desk so he was sitting beside Liz on the other side of the bed. 

“Remember when we went up to her uncle’s house to clean it out and we met that demon?” the drummer started. “I couldn’t believe what it did to her!” 

“Neither could I. Well, Liz did say the night that she was inseminated that she had a crazy sex dream and felt really sated after it!” Freddie chimed in. 

“I thought she was going to peg me as the troublemaker and not trust me.. But Liz knew the demon possessed me and she never held it against me at all. Even after the demon made me knock her unconscious, bring her to the basement and deliver what was inside of her.” Roger lowered his gaze to Liz, seeing her flushed cheeks and closed eyelids. She seemed impervious to her friends talking about her but they all knew on some level she was hearing them. 

“I wonder..” John paused. “Do you think that the demon screwed up her lady business so she couldn’t have any actual human kids?” 

“I think that it’s a possibility,” Ben agreed, sipping his tea. “has she ever been checked?” 

“No. We didn’t know anything could be wrong until she had the ectopic pregnancy and surgery.” Brian set his saucer down. 

“She should get checked out soon anyway just to make sure she’s in good shape down there.” 

“I’ll remember that.” John wrote it down. 

The group shared several more stories about Liz, culminating in lots of laughs. Ben felt like he was getting to know her better; she had always been polite and funny to be around but he’d never seen her in action as a medic. 

“That time when the pyro exploded and went everywhere,” Freddie started. “we were in Ireland, Ben, and the tech on that show sucked royal asshole! The explosions went haywire and we all got hurt. Liz here was laid up, sick with allergies. I wasn’t hurt too much so I had to dig out John, Brian and Roger so I had to put on my brave face and deal with it. We were all fucked up pretty good but Brian easily got the worst of it.” 

“What happened to him?” 

“The heat from the fireworks injured the nerves in my eyes and I was blind for several days,” Brian told him calmly. “but I got my eyesight back!” 

“In the meantime Brian’s hearing got a little more acute I think. Liz got stung by a bee and went into anaphylactic shock. He could tell first because her breathing pattern was disrupted.” 

“Really? So he saved her life?” 

“If you want to call it that.” 

“No way! What other stories have you got?” 

“The time she had a particularly bad time of the month and all four of us tended to her like mother hens. She took a nap in the middle of the day with Brian and Roger. It was so cute!” Freddie teased. 

John started laughing as he set his cup and saucer away, giving Liz a sidelong glance, wondering what was going through her mind. 

On the other side of those closed eyes Liz was experiencing a different type of dream. 

Just like Snow White Liz was lying in a glass covered casket wearing a beautiful jewel green dress with a deep portrait collar and matching shoes. On her neck was the butterfly pendant necklace John had given her; she also wore items that the others had given her as well. A rhinestone barrette from Freddie held her curls back from her face, her star earrings were from Brian, and a simple bracelet made out of gold colored chain from Roger adorned her wrist. 

Even in the dream she was still uncomfortable from the fever heat. Her hands clutched a bunch of flowers like Snow White but unlike the fairy tale Liz felt herself starting to get dizzy from her hayfever. She kept her eyes closed and tried to breathe easily and in no time at all she heard footsteps. 

The glass was removed, a pair of lips sealed over hers and she felt all heat and discomfort melt away. Liz lazily opened up her eyes to see John leaning over her with a benevolent smile on his face. He took her hands, noted that the flowers she held she was allergic to and tossed them aside. The medic laughed, holding out her arms so he could pick her up. 

“Your legs broken?” he teased. 

“I can’t feel them,” she pretended but he picked her up anyway. “you spoil me.” 

She heard her name like someone was calling her but her eyelids felt so heavy they had to be closed. 

**

Liz opened one of her eyes a little bit to see what was going on around her. All five of her friends were sitting around her, gossiping about their adventures over tea. When did Ben get here? Liz wondered idly. They were all talking about their adventures; in fact the word Liz fell from their mouths readily and they were all chuckling. 

“Hey,” John noticed her eyes were slightly open. “you’re awake. How do you feel?” he leaned down closer to her so he could hear her better. 

“Hot...” 

“I know, sweetheart.” he put a hand on her forehead then checked her fever. “It’s gone down a bit; 104.2 now.” 

“I need.. cold bath.. get this fever down..” 

“Right. OK, I’ll strip you down then.” her eyes closed. 

“What? Are you doing some bizarre fetish thing? Fuck a sick person now?” Freddie protested. 

“Nope. A cool bath would help loads to get the fever down. Remember you guys were telling me about packing Roger in snow when he was sick?” Ben reminded them. 

“I’d forgotten all about it.” 

“You would, Roger! You were pretty sick and I don’t think you remember anything about that time.” Brian teased. “What do you need me to do, John?”

“You go run the bath and fill it about two thirds. Roger, help me strip her down. Ben, go grab a few towels. Freddie I want you to change the bed linen.” 

“OK.” they set about their respective tasks as John unbuttoned her nightgown. Roger got a good look at her scar where they had removed the nonviable fetus and gaped at it for a moment. 

“That’s a big scar.” it had faded to dull pink and was about four inches long, about an inch and a half above her belly button. 

“I know. She moaned about it ruining her bikini body but that’s far away right now.” John wrapped her in a towel for modesty, picked her up, then brought her across the hall to the bathroom. Brian got up from where he had been kneeling to check the water and left them alone. 

Once John got her in the water she began to shiver which was torturing him a little bit but he held firm and let her soak for about twenty minutes, scrubbing her down from head to toe. A memory flashed up of him doing the same thing for her when they were in college together when she became ill. He did not dwell on it; taking her toffee scented soap and working up a lather to rub on her chest. A faint reflex tried to stir in him but he forced himself to disconnect from his sex drive. 

After the 20 minutes was up he drained the tub, wrapped the towel around her and picked her up. Freddie had changed the bed linens, laid out a fresh nightshirt and assisted John in towel drying Liz off then putting her in the nightshirt. 

“Does she seem very warm to you now?” the singer laid a hand on Liz’s left cheekbone. “I think her idea worked.” 

“Yes it did,” John checked her temperature. “It’s 103.4 and seems to be declining. What time is it?”

“Almost three.” 

“Around four I’d like to update the doctor on her condition.” 

“Good idea. I think we restart the liquids rule,” Freddie managed to get some water down her throat. “progress.” 

“Let’s hope that we’re gaining ground.” John worried.


	4. Chapter 4

For the rest of the day Liz seemed to be more comfortable than before. John towel dried off her hair then pulled out a pad of paper and a pencil, wondering about song ideas. With Roger playing with his bongos in the music room John thought of a beat and fitted words to it. He was almost done when Brian walked in, humming the song It’s Late. 

“You know I think that’s it!” the bassist exclaimed, startling Brian. 

“What is?” the long legged guitarist plopped down on the living room couch, his feet draped off to the side so his clogs weren’t touching the fabric. 

“Music, Bri! Liz was always one to lecture us on the healing properties of music. Do you remember when she was depressed or troubled of any kind that Freddie would play the piano for her and she would sing with him? She said it healed her on a spiritual level! I think that Freddie should-”

“Do I hear my name?” the singer breezed into the living room and sat down on the edge of the coffee table. “I think the wheels have been turning in your head, John.” 

“I think Liz needs to be sung to. She always thought that music was healing and that may help her on recovering or at least start her on the right road to it. What do you think?” 

“Which song from our eclectic body of work would be the best?” Freddie hemmed. 

“Something like a lullaby almost.. how about...” John paused. 

“Try You’re My Best Friend. You wrote that song about her.” Brian lazily spoke up. “I think it’s only fitting that you sing the song you wrote for her.” 

“Let’s just do our slow songs for her. Did Ben go and inspect his office yet?” Freddie didn’t recall seeing the real estate agent around since John gave Liz her bath. 

“Yeah, he slipped out to go and have a look at it. He’ll be back in time for supper. Did you update the doctor?” 

“Yes, Dr. Brian, I did. He seems pleased and will look in on her tomorrow. C’mon, let’s go get Roger and start playing.” Freddie cuffed Brian’s shoulder then went off to the music room calling for the drummer. 

The shaggy haired drummer looked up from where he’d been sitting on a beanbag chair with his bongos in his lap, looking up at his bandmates in the low afternoon light. When he understood what was going on he smiled and said that was something they could definitely do. 

“A slow song session? I’m up for that!” he picked up his drumsticks and went over to the set while Brian picked up the Red Special. Freddie adjusted the sound levels on the amps to be soft as John went to check on Liz before they started. 

“We have a treat for you, love,” he whispered in her ear. “we’re going to play you into a deep and restful sleep that should jump start your recovery.” John brushed aside her damp hair, hoping for some sign that she heard him but got nothing. 

At first. Liz gave a faint stir and mumbled, “John.” 

“I’m here for you. Listen for us playing songs for you, darling.” he pulled up the covers and went into the music room. Standing at the keyboard he positioned his fingers and began to play the opening riff for You’re My Best Friend. Freddie softly crooned the song, putting extra feeling into it and hoping that Liz would hear them. 

“Up next, Spread Your Wings!” John announced. 

The band played through It’s Late and several other slow songs until Ben came in from his errand. The real estate agent glanced around the empty kitchen and went into the music room, watching the masters playing their instruments. Freddie was halfway through Somebody To Love with everyone wailing into their microphones gospel style. Ben leaned on the doorjamb and watched, hardly believing what he was seeing. 

“Lemme check on her.” he left the music room, went into the sickroom, leaning over Liz and touching her forehead. She seemed more restful than before which was a good sign so Ben took her temperature. 

“Wow, it’s dropping! 102.8!” he exclaimed happily. 

His exclamation made Liz open up her eyes and gaze at him in mild confusion. “Ben?”

“Hey,” he closed his hands around hers. “I came in yesterday to see how you guys were faring and I know you were having a hard time.” 

“That’s an understatement.” 

“Hey, I don’t want to dredge up old memories now. You’ve got to start recovering from this illness then we can talk,” he reminded her. “I read between the lines and thought you were suffering more than you let on. I don’t think even John knows about it.” 

“He knows about my grief.” 

“I think you may have surprised yourself with the depth of what you’re feeling,” Ben said wisely. “you thought you were all right but you had some feelings of deeper grief and mourning that must have surprised you. I know you.” 

“I thought I was done grieving and then it just hit me.” her eyes grew darker. 

“Don’t think about it now, all right? Just get better first. Do you know how you got back here?” 

“I don’t remember a thing,” Liz moaned. “it’s all a blur.” 

“Time enough for that later. I want you sleeping and that fever gone. Can you do that?” 

“Yes I can, Ben.” 

“Then get off to sleep with you. Are you thirsty at all?”

“Oh yes.” Liz shut her eyes as there was a knock on the door. 

“Coming!” Roger got out from behind the drum set and dashed to the door, opening it up to see a florist with an arrangement. “Oh wow, that’s beautiful! Who sent this?” he picked up the card from the holder. 

“Oh that’s nice. To our friend Liz, we heard about your health problems and are sincerely wishing that you get well soon. You’re quite a fighter and you can do it! Love from everyone at the London Fire Brigade unit 4.” Roger tucked the card away and brought the small arrangement into the bedroom where Ben looked up with interest. 

“Liz, it’s flowers from your fire department pals!” the drummer sang out merrily, putting it down on the desk. 

“Shh.” Ben told him. “I just got her to go to sleep.” 

“How’s she looking? Did you take her temperature?” 

“It’s going down. Are you guys hungry? I can call for pizza.” 

“Sounds great.” Roger refilled Liz’s water bottle, put the card on the night table so she could easily get it and read it later, then got pizza suggestions from the rest of the band. 

“Um, Brian, why don’t you call Miami and suggest he do a press release saying that Liz is out of the woods?” Freddie inquired as Ben picked up the phone and called in the pizza order. 

“Good idea, Freddie. I’ll do that after supper; Miami will be working late tonight.” 

“So do we think that our sweet invalid needs another watch tonight?” Freddie asked. “Ben says she’s on the mend.” 

“I think we won’t need to. John, are you going to share the bed with her?” 

“I think so. I’ll be watching her anyway.” 

“Good. Think maybe our singing finally helped her on the road to recovery.” 

**

That night John got dressed for bed and slid in beside his sick girlfriend. He brushed a hand over her forehead, pleased to notice that her fever was steadily going down. The bassist knew he should not kiss her in case the scarlet fever infected him, so he contented himself with hugging her and falling asleep knowing that she was going to be fine. 

For Liz all she remembered was waking up in the columbarium, sitting at her child’s grave then vaguely hearing someone’s voice that she kind of recognized as John’s. She had been picked up and moved, heat greeted her like an old friend, she was wrapped up in warmed blankets then that was it. Ben’s voice and face floated through her mind though she wasn’t sure why. 

Bright rays of sunlight shone through the eastern sky, trailing into the window, sneaking across the floor, up the bedpost, then running over the figures of Liz and John. He stirred awake as soon as he felt the penetrating stare of the sun knocking on his eyelids. Slowly he pulled the lids open, his eyes going over to the still form of Liz. Reaching over to his night table he picked up the aural thermometer, poked it into her ear and got a reading. 

“You’re normal again!” he breathed a sigh of relief, putting the thermometer away and cuddling close to Liz. 

Two hours later Ben peered into the room, entered, picked up the thermometer and checked Liz’s temperature, immensely relieved when he found that it was normal. John was curled up next to her, getting her in a front to back hug while he slept on. 

“Good girl,” Ben refilled the water bottle next to the bed. “I’m glad to see that you’re with us again.” 

Ben was in such a good mood he ransacked the refrigerator, made eggs and sausage for breakfast and called everyone out like they were his own children. Roger and Freddie stumbled in all bleary eyed, Brian mumbled a good morning as he sat down while John looked happier than he had been in awhile. 

“What is this now? Ben, you’re in a good mood.” 

“I am indeed, Freddie,” Ben turned the gas off the range, handing the singer an empty plate to serve himself. “I just looked in on Liz and her fever broke early this morning.” 

“Oh thank god,” Brian sighed, his blue eyes lighting up a little more. Freddie glanced at his friend and thought that Brian had a late night last night again. “I’m so glad; I was worried about her.” 

“Did you have a late night, Bri?” Roger recognized the look. 

“Yeah I did,” he admitted. “I had a lower back strain and I could use a massage.” 

“We need Liz to give us massages but how about we book an appointment in the city?” Freddie picked up the phone and called in an appointment for himself and Brian. Tomorrow Roger and John would get their due; Freddie offered to book Ben in as well which he gladly accepted. The singer even booked Liz in along with Ben, knowing that her muscles would be sore after her illness. After he hung up the phone he leaned against the wall in the hallway, giving a sigh of relief that Liz was out of the woods. 

Roger finished his breakfast, put the plate in the dishwasher then cuffed Freddie on the shoulder, sensing his friend needed a minute. “Close call this time, Freddie.” 

“That it was,” he agreed. “she could have died from that fever alone. We didn’t get her back just to watch her die.” 

“That’s true.” was all Freddie said. Brian came upon them in the hallway, the guitarist knew what they were talking about but didn’t say a word. 

In the bedroom Liz awakened, narrowing her eyes at the sunlight. She took a few minutes to get herself together and try to remember what had happened to her but it was a mess of confusing faces, voices and places. She remembered being as hot as fire, deep confusing dreams and that was basically it. 

What did she need now? A shower preferably. Liz was unable to move from the bed, being stiff and cramped up. She heard the clatter of plates in the kitchen, the smell of something good, making her stomach rumble. Liz had to smile-she was actually hungry! The last time she had eaten something was in the cafe at nighttime which seemed like a million years ago. 

“Well, look who’s awake!” Freddie strode into the room happily, glancing at Liz in the bed. “I heard your fever went away so do you want breakfast or a shower first?” 

“Damnit Freddie, feed me!” she was still tired looking, ghostly white from her illness but she managed a little flash of color which made the singer happy to see. 

“Coming right up! Don’t move-you’re not allowed to get up just yet.” 

Freddie waited on Liz gallantly, chattering to her while she breakfasted then she told him that she wanted a shower badly. Pushing aside the blankets the medic put her feet on the ground, stood up to grasp Freddie’s hand then nearly fell over as her muscles complained. Freddie quickly grabbed her waist to keep her upright; she frowned up at him as the dizziness set in. 

“All right, love?”

“I will be in a minute. I’m a little dizzy.” 

“Well, come on then.” Freddie worried about her moving around and was concerned that she might not be able to stand up for long in the shower so he picked her up, bringing her into the bathroom. Liz giggled for a moment, reassured Freddie that she would shout for him if she needed him then kept the door ajar. 

“I’ll call you if I need you, I swear.” Liz stripped down, got into the shower, then cleaned herself up as quickly as she could. Her dark hair started curling almost immediately as she towel dried then got into a fresh pair of pajamas. Freddie leaned into the doorway, watching her, asking if she needed help to get back to the bedroom. 

“Just stay behind me in case I fall.” Freddie hovered as she tacked towards the bedroom a little unsteadily at first. Roger and John had stripped the bed and put new sheets on it for her. 

“Brian and I have to leave for an appointment but we’ll be back soon.” 

“Where are you going?” 

“We have booked appointments with a couple of masseuses. You and Ben will be going tomorrow.” 

“You’re a genius, Freddie,” Liz braided her hair and put it on her left shoulder so it hung like a thick rope. “that’s just what I need. Try not to give them a hard time, all right?” 

“Right.” he pecked her on the cheek, summoned Brian and both of them left for their appointments. 

When they were gone Ben was still cleaning up the kitchen, Roger and John were watching TV and Liz laid back on the bed to take a little nap. 

**

An hour later she woke up then noticed the flowers sitting on the desk. Picking up the card she read it and felt her face flush momentarily. The fire brigade was so kind to her even now when she didn’t work with them anymore. The medic pulled out a drawer filled with cards for any kind of occasion(she was like her grandmother in that respect; every occasion got a card), and selected a thank you card. 

It was a pretty card with gilt edges, blue glitter border and the simple words thank you written in a deep midnight blue script. Inside the card was blank so Liz could fill it in with what she wanted. The medic knew that the fire department kept up with her and Queen through the local press which kept tabs on their every move. The last thing they knew was that she was down sick after being missing for two days so she had to fill them in. 

“Dear everyone at the fire brigade,” she began, using her favorite gel pen. “as you no doubt are aware I’ve been through some really rough times lately. To set the record straight I suffered an ectopic pregnancy, had surgery and have been dealing with a lot of depression and guilt over it. I won’t go into detail of it but you can imagine how I’ve been feeling mentally. Recently I just snapped and went away from it all. I don’t remember anything about my disappearance; it’s a huge blur. This morning I woke up and finally felt lucid. Freddie told me that I had scarlet fever which can be really serious. I saw that you guys sent me flowers and I can’t thank you enough for that. I’m on the road to recovery now and I appreciate the fact you guys remembered me and sent me such a lovely gift. I love you all! Yours forever, Elizabeth Jade Hammond.” 

Fortunately Liz found a signed picture of the Queen four in another drawer of the desk, added her signature at the back with an apology that there was no picture of her she could sign but she was the backstage talent. The medic slipped the picture into the envelope with the card, addressed and signed it, then sent it on its way. 

For the rest of the day the medic stayed close to her bed, taking a nap after lunch. Ben came into the room around 2 to look in on her. 

“Sleeping away, huh?” he picked up the corner of the sheet and began to draw it up but Liz stirred, opening up her eyes. “Hey how’s it going?”

“Oh, Ben. I thought you were here but I wrote it off as a dream.” Ben recognized her daze and sat on the edge of the bed. 

“Well, how do I feel to you?” he took her hand. “You can’t touch dreams.” 

“True. What happened to me?” 

“From what I gathered, Brian and Roger tried to take their aggression out on you, you told them off, and left the house. You went missing for two days, Liz.” 

“Is that how long it’s been? I can’t remember anything about my missing days.” 

“Yeah. That’s about all I remember. I came in from the country and decided to stop in at this house and take you up on the offer of hospitality. I didn’t recognize the fact that you were lost or anything like that. I show up after the doctor leaves and I was told that you were deathly sick with scarlet fever.” 

“I was? I do remember the term scarlet fever bounced around so that’s what I had I guess.” 

“You forgave Roger and Brian for their antics then I guess that’s it.” 

“Where’s John?” 

“He’s in the living room with Roger. Want me to get him for you?”

“Please. I’m so glad you’re here though.” Ben’s presence along with everyone else was a great comfort to Liz. She could draw strength from all five of her friends now. The real estate agent was like John, mostly quiet and unassuming but unlike anyone else he projected a distinct paternal air over the others. He treated the boys like brothers and Liz like the sister that he never had. 

Ben left the room, John appeared a little hesitantly. Liz smiled at him, holding out her hand for him to take which he did, taking Ben’s spot on the bed. “I’m glad you’re awake and on the mend, sweetie.” 

“John, what’s happened to me since I’ve been sick? You’re all hiding something from me,” she frowned in concern as the bassist looked distinctly uneasy. “if it’s about me I need to know.” 

“You’re right. I guess I’ve been avoiding this all day. Are you sure you’re well enough to absorb all of this?” 

“I’m sure, hon.” 

“All right. You ran out one afternoon, we called the police at around midnight, and then the next day at around noontime there was a report on the TV about a car accident with a van matching the description of Roger’s. There were fatalities and we were on the edge when we get a call saying that you had been identified as a casualty.” 

Liz turned so pale John was afraid that she might faint. “We were all very upset over that bit of news and grieved all day over you. The next day I took Brian and we went out to the cemetery to double check the plot that we’d bought when our child died.”

“It’s strange; I remember waking up in a columbarium.” Liz interrupted. 

“That sounds about right. Anyway I go out to the site with Brian and we see a heap of clothes next to the black tomb and I saw this,” John held up her butterfly clip she often wore in her hair. “it fell from your hair; I knew then that it was you, hypothermic and sick. Brian and I hustled you back here to recuperate from your ordeal. Miami had the doctor check you over, told us that you had scarlet fever and also told us that you tested positive for drugs.” 

“The first night in the alley.. I did a line I think. It wasn’t as fun as you’d think.” 

“Explains that then. Ben arrived on the night you were taken sick so his presence has helped us out tremendously; we were all mentally and physically exhausted. He looked after us and you. Sometime yesterday afternoon your fever spiked so high you suffered a seizure.” 

“I did? Oh god, that must have been frightening to see.” she took both of his hands. 

“It was. We all love you so much and I was really shaken to see you so sick.” John dabbed at his eye. 

“Poor baby. Come here.” Liz managed to sit up and put John into an embrace. She held him for a long time until he stopped sniffling and crying silently into her shoulder. Gratefully he pulled back, looked into her eyes for a long moment, then gave her a kiss on the cheek.

“I’m so glad that you’ve been returned to us,” he almost whispered. “what I went through when I thought you were dead you can’t imagine it. I thought my life had been taken too. Nothing was ever going to be the same without you.” 

“Oh babe, don’t talk anymore. Don’t distress yourself.” she hushed him, her own eyes getting glassy with tears. 

“I want you to promise never to do such a thing again,” he demanded. “I can’t live without you.” 

“That almost sounds like a marriage proposal, John.” Liz chuckled. 

“We’re staying committed but not married; escape the marriage tax,” he smiled briefly. “but I don’t want you to do something so foolish again. Next time just tell me and we can take a little vacation together.” 

“Deal. We can go to my house or something.” 

“If you ever feel depressed or god forbid suicidal again, you have to tell me,” John’s eyes were extremely bright. “you know I’d move heaven and earth to help you; all I ask of you now is to let me know what you’re feeling.” 

“I usually do.” 

“Liz, I know when something really bothers you that you repress it deep down and pretend it won’t bother you. But it will fester and you’ll wind up venting in a bad way like running away. You need better coping skills. Just be more emotionally transparent for me.” 

“I’ll do my best.” she promised him. 

“Good. Any questions for me?” 

“Just one,” she looked hesitant like she didn’t want to mention it herself. “do you ever want to have a child with me?” 

“Yes I do,” he said very quickly. “I must insist that you have your business checked out first so we can get moving on that front.” 

“Good.” 

“Now, how about we get some shut eye, huh? We will sleep good tonight.” 

“We’ll be heading back to Munich after I’m well enough, right?”

“Damn right.” 

“Then I have some good ideas on improving our sex life while we’re out there.” Liz kissed him on the cheek as John got on the bed next to her. 

“I’m already interested.” he said drowsily, fatigue from the past few days caught up to him fast now that he told Liz everything she needed to know. He’d made a clean breast of the situation and was ready to move forward. 

Roger leaned into the doorway, giving Liz a grin while John closed his eyes. The medic gave Roger a smile back, warmed throughout her heart at the thought of her friends nursing her through the past few days. The drummer knew she wouldn’t remember much about her missing days but that was not important at all. She’d come a long way from being sick and hypothermic; all she needed was rest and the comfort of her friends to make it the rest of the way back. 

“Glad to see you back, Liz.” he murmured. 

“Glad to be back.” she kissed John’s temple and wrapped her arms around him.

THE END


End file.
